Baby, Shower!

Eating a meal with a baby is sort of like eating a meal with a homeless person.
It's fine to do so, but they tend to get messy and not say a great deal.
It also doesn't take a huge amount to fill them up.
Two weeks ago? Maybe?
Whenever it was.
I ate a meal with a baby at some new-aged parents' house while Turpin smothered demons beside me.
She dragged me there.
It was a good time. Don't get me wrong.
The co-owner of the sprout is also a co-owner of the house.
And the baby.
So, the meal was flagrantly vegetarian.
And I ate the whole thing!
There wasn't anything left on the plate and I didn't whine about it or anything.
Though the meal hit a brief snag when the baby tried to touch me while I was sipping my coffee.
All covered in melon and youth and God knows what else.
So I told the baby.
I said, "Don't touch me with your mangy (pronounced 'mang-ee') ol' hands-get away from me."
I think Peter Miles (the father) was insulted.
Which is ridiculous.
I wouldn't have believed that Peter Miles could be insulted.
Some years ago we celebrated his sister's 30th in their parents' home.
And he laughingly suggested I have sex with her while there.
Because it would have been hilarious.
For everyone but me.
Anyway.
The baby was alright other than that.
I'm cool with feeding him squash.
But I would like to think that he'll be offered a carnivorous option when he's done teething.